


Space Cold

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, I almost gagged writing it, and she's not really all that comforting, does this count as hurt/comfort?, he's not actually hurt, nasty medicine, no I mean REALLY nasty, that description might set someone off, whiny sick Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 17:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9196391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Shiro doesn't handle being sick well, but fortunately Allura knows how to handle Shiro. (NOT THAT WAY, YOU PERVS)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a submission to _Stars Aligned_ , the up-and-coming Shallura fanzine! It wasn't accepted for publication, so I am posting it here.  
> ===================

            “You shouldn’t be here,” he groaned. “It’s not safe.”

            Allura stopped in the doorway with her tray and frowned at Shiro. “You have a minor viral infection of the upper respiratory tract, Shiro.”

            “I have the space cold,” he corrected her.

            “ _Must_ you all put ‘space’ in front of _everything_?” she asked.

            “I got it from Lance, so it’s a space cold,” he insisted.

            “You got it from _all_ of the paladins, which is actually why I’m here.” She brought the tray in and set it next to him on his bunk. “You took such good care of all of them when they were sick; it’s time someone took care of you.”

            “No, no, no,” he insisted. “I need to be quarantined. _Especially_ from you.”

            She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

            “Who knows what this will do to an alien biology?”

            She frowned. “’Alien biology’?”

            He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t mean… that’s not… it’s just…”

            She patted his shoulder. “Just remember that _you’re_ the alien out here. And you’re no good to the universe if you’re sick. So, I brought some medicine, food, and water for you.”

            “Just let me die,” he croaked, rolling onto his side away from her.

            She rolled her eyes. “Oh, so it’s not just Altean males who are whiny when they’re sick. Good to know. Though Alteans have extremely healthy and robust immune systems,” she informed him. “A minor rhinovirus is nothing to us. I am not going to catch your ‘space cold’.”

            He rolled back over to look at her. “Promise?”

            She snorted. “Yes, I promise. Now _sit up_. You need nutrition and hydration, and if you’re not going to be reasonable, I _will_ stick you in a cryo-replenisher for a few hours.”

            He sat up immediately and she smiled as if he hadn’t been acting like a baby all this time. She also kept her eyes on his face, trying to ignore that he was shirtless. _This man is ill and in need of medical attention, not ogling._ She handed him a water packet.

            “Here. Drink. This has plenty of electrolytes for you.” He accepted it without protest and did as instructed. “I’m glad to see you’ve stopped being childish.”

            “I hate being sick,” he grumbled. “It feels like my body doesn’t fit right.” He shifted uneasily in his bunk before sipping some more.

            She put her hand to his forehead. “You’re still hot. Feverish, I mean,” she clarified quickly, pulling her hand away again. “But with adequate nutrition and rest, you should be fine. Here.” She handed him a cup. “Drink this. Give me the packet – yes, good – and drink this instead.”

            He sniffed at it and scrunched his face up. “Ugh. Let me guess: it’s healthy.”

            “It’s medicine,” she told him. “And you’re going to drink it.”

            “How much of it?”

            “ALL of it.”

            He groaned. “Tell me I can chase it with the water.”

            “Yes, but you’d be better off following it up with food.”

            “Fine, just so long as the taste of this stuff isn’t in my mouth forever.”

            “You don’t even know what it tastes like!”

            “I know what it smells like!”

            “Drink. It,” she insisted.

            He took a steeling breath and started chugging it. She had to admit, that _was_ the best way to go about it. The medicine was potent but also disgustingly-textured (like runny mucus) and foul-tasting (like toxic waste that had been steeped in urine then left to ferment). He drained the cup and then gagged.

            She handed over the bowl of food goo and, for a second, she thought he was going to just drop his face into it. But he did pick up the spork to start shoveling food in, likely in hopes of drowning out the medicine.

            She patted his shoulder. “See? You’ll be better in no time.”

            He stopped eating to give her a long, hard stare. She just smiled at him, and he swallowed his goo and reached for the packet again.

            “I’m starting to feel like the cure is worse than the illness.”

            “Well, that’s how you know it’ll work.”

            “Altean medicine is going to be the death of me. Can I rethink going into the pod for a bit?”

            “Too late. Now we have to wait and see how your body handles the medicine.”

            He gulped some water down and then looked at her with a tired smile. “I do appreciate your coming to nurse me. I know I’m not the best patient.” He looked down at his food goo as she thought, _Shiro: Master of Understatement_. “I’m used to always giving everything my all, and I can’t right now, and it’s frustrating. I can barely do average right now, if even that. I want to just sleep until I wake up well again.”

            “Well, it’s good that you’re getting rest and not trying to push yourself through this. And thank you for finally being reasonable. I’m glad to be able to do something for you, for a change.”

            “’For a change’?” he asked. “You’re always helping us.”

            “Well, I meant… something just for you.” She hoped she wasn’t blushing and rather feared she was. “You do a lot around here, for me, for all of us, for the universe. We need you healthy, and I’m pleased to be able to help with that.”

            He smiled warmly at her, and she couldn’t help smiling back. She laid a hand over one of his, and his smile widened. She looked into his dark eyes and brushed his cheek with her fingertips. He licked his lips and shook his head a little. “Allura, you shouldn’t…”

            “If you don’t want me to…”

            “I don’t want you to get sick,” he protested.

            “I won’t get sick,” she told him, just before she pressed her lips to his. Even if he could protest at that point, he no longer seemed inclined to.

 

 

            Coran was mixing up the necessary medicine (or rather, running the machine that mixed it). “I just don’t understand how she caught it in the first place,” he said as Shiro assembled a tray of food and water.

            “Maybe Altean immune systems aren’t as ‘robust’ as you two thought,” Shiro pointed out evenly. He was, more or less, back to normal, and as he and the other paladins had already been through this ‘space cold’, he had volunteered to tend to the princess. “It _has_ been ten thousand years since your bodies last had to fight anything off. Tech isn’t the only thing that advances, after all.”

            “Hm, good point.” He took the mug and set it on the tray for Shiro. “There you are. Now make sure she drinks the whole thing. She’s likely to put up a fuss about it; she always did hate taking her medicine.”

            Shiro grinned. “I’ll see to it she drinks every last drop; I promise.”


End file.
